


Melting Point

by tyedyetulips



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, FREQUENT death, Multi, Respawn sickness, also this is my first fic im putting effort into, have mercy, i don't know where i'm going with this, i'm not sure if there's even gonna be a romantic relationship with demo or friendship from hell, we'll feckin see i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyedyetulips/pseuds/tyedyetulips
Summary: to be honest, i'm not sure where this is going. i'm just trying to practice writing and develop writing at the same time :'V





	Melting Point

        She had always hated the thought of settling down and leading some sort of 'domestic' life, becoming some fat old bastard's trophy wife with thirty brats leeching off of her until she finally died from a heart attack or turning out to be some out burnt out biddy working as a secretary at her ex's office supplies business. In her head, she'd be on the move until death kicked down her front door, which she had expected to come by now, honestly. She always craved a life of action. So when lovely Miss Pauling came along on her little scooter, bailed her out of jail and offered her a job that involved wrecking shit without the consequence of death (and a fat paycheck), she accepted without hesitation or any thought of how much crap she'd have to go through.

        And now, Clover McGuire, aged 30, was fucking burning in this goddamn asbestos-lined suit, waiting for one of her new co-workers to pick her up and wishing she'd taken that promising job as a secretary her ex had offered her. She had been regretting this decision ever since she stepped off the bus. Fighting for hours in the burning heat of the badlands over what? Well, she didn't really know what, to be honest. She could've sworn somewhere in that contract she signed it mentioned gravel.

        Territory maybe?

        Rich guys fighting over land in the middle of nowhere didn't sound too strange, to be honest. Although, she didn't get the appeal of the area. The only thing remotely interesting around here was that little Podunk town, Teufort, and that place is filled with and run by some dumbasses with shit beer. Maybe she could just turn back and run back to town and lay low for a while. Forget about this whole ordeal and run with her tail tucked in between her legs back to Scotland. Sure, Miss Pauling and her boss looked and sounded like they meant business, but she figured she'd be able to hide from 'em long enough for them to forget about her. Before she could execute the plan, however, she took notice of a tiny cloud of dust and dirt down the road. Clover could vaguely make out the outline of some sort of...van? She kept her focus on the supposed van, clutching her suitcase, bringing her free hand up to bring her gas mask down in case that was in fact her co-workers. She wanted to keep her identity from being disclosed from both the enemy team and her own. Didn't want any of these psychopaths to find her after her contract ended. Granted, Clover didn't really know a lot about them other than the basic information Miss Pauling had given her and she couldn't be too quick to judge, especially considering her track record. Hell, she might even be the worse than them. She pushed those thoughts out of her head and pulled out the paperwork she'd been instructed to present upon pick up as the van screeched to a halt in front of her. Slowly, the window rolled down and she was greeted with a nod by a large, balding man in a red t-shirt and a smile from the stouter and friendlier looking fellow in goggles.

        "Papers?" The larger of the two spoke in a thick Russian accent and a flat voice, extending his hand out.

        "Got 'em right here, friend." She nodded, holding the papers up.

        "Cannot understand through mask, arsonist." He lamented whilst taking the documents and passing them to his friend. Clover furrowed her brows, frowning. That'd sure hinder being able to communicate with her team effectively. Shit. Ah well, it's not like communication was important or anything! The Irishwoman sighed, cocking her head as she waited for the papers back. The goggle wearing man nodded as he skimmed over the papers, occasionally whispering something to his friend.

        "Well, everything seems to be there pardner. I'll be your engineer and this is our heavy weaponry handler. Everyone's back at our main base down the road and they're plenty eager to meetcha!" He grinned down at her as he folded the papers and stored them in the glove compartment. "Hop on into the back so we can get going." She nodded, reassured by this mans friendly nature. He seemed alright and if the rest of the team was like him, she figured it wouldn't be too hard to get along with them!

        The rest of the team was nothing like Engineer.

        As they parked the van in the garage of what looked to be a bread making facility, Clover could already hear people yelling and laughing. Something inside crashed and shattered, quickly followed by a chorus of swear words and more boisterous laughter. When she walked in the room went silent, six people gathered around a round table playing what looked like poker all turned to look at the trio as she set down the suitcase for a moment.

        "Pyro? Back already?"

        A familiar accent caught Clover's attention and she perked up.

_There's no way in hell that the bastard could be here._

        Last she heard of him, the cyclops had bought property down south and moved with his ma for demolition work. Fuck, imagine her luck if it was actually him. She eagerly scanned the room as the engineer explained how she'd been hired as a replacement, and found him staring right at her. Wedged between a boy that hardly looked to be out of high school and a man in a helmet that covered his eyes, sat Tavish Finnegan Degroot! They had been friends for years before they got out of high school and drifted off. She'd see him in the taverns sometimes but she'd stayed out of his way. Clover didn't want rumors to go about, dragging Tavish's reputation down with her. He didn't need to be associated with some low life jailbird. Yet, here he was! Killing people for a living! Before she could make her way over to her old friend, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "You there, pardner?" Clover looked back at engineer and nodded sheepishly. Guess she spaced out for a minute. When she looked back at Tavish, he looked vaguely alarmed. Probably because she'd been staring directly at him for maybe a solid thirty seconds. Ah shite, already making bad impressions. "Right...well, that there German fellow on the end is our medic, then you have the spy, scout, demo, soldier and then our sniper." He said, going pointing to each merc as he listed off the names. He still had a hand on her shoulder. "Rooms are down that hall and showers are all the way at the end. Got all that friend?" Clover nodded for what felt like the millionth time in a row, not bothering to respond knowing it'd all come out as gibberish anyways. "Why don't you head on down to your room and get some rest. I'm sure you're tired after the trip." He suggested with a smile before gesturing down the hall. "Our rooms have the class symbol on the doors. If ya need anything, my workshop's always right around the corner." She nodded again, picking her suitcase back up and walking down the hall, waving back at her teammates. Engie was right about that. She'd spend the following week getting prepped for battle before doing any actual fighting. Learning about their objectives and her weapons and the enemy team. Clover expected nothing less than a unforgiving training program and needed to mentally prepare herself for doing any sort of psychical activities again. She may have softened a little after landing in jail for the fourth time, her health falling down to the bottom wrung on her list of priorities.

        She took a deep breath as she stopped at the end of the hall. It was going to turn out alright. She wouldn't have been selected for this job if she was deemed too unfit to work anywho! Slowly opening the door, Clover cautiously peered around the room. It was barren save for a bed, a dresser, and a desk. She caught something bright and colorful behind the bed and set her suitcase down on the dresser, dropping to her knees. It appeared to be faded marker drawings of rainbows and lollipops and...were those people on fire? She could only assume this was the work of their previous pyro and stood back up, hands on her hips. Perhaps she could ask about it later. For now, she really needed to unpack.


End file.
